Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Croatia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Altered Images to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
The Stooges,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ohio Players,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Jacob Miller,
The Tremeloes,
Tres Demented,
H. Thieme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boz Scaggs,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brass Construction,
The Standells,
Mr. Review,
Dawn Penn,
The Selecter,
Hasil Adkins,
Masters at Work,
Mars,
Bobby Byrd,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Qualms,
The Techniques,
Angry Samoans,
Swans,
Los Fastidios,
the Germs,
Simply Red,
A Certain Ratio,
Second Layer,
Warsaw,
The Fuzztones,
Ralphi Rosario,
Parry Music,
The Moody Blues,
The Durutti Column,
Black Moon,
Mo-Dettes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barry Ungar,
Babytalk,
Vainqueur,
Groovy Waters,
Little Man,
The Motions,
The Gun Club,
Ludus,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Symarip,
EPMD,
Josef K,
Pantaleimon,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.